


The prettiest eyes

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [71]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x4, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Diverges in season 8, F/M, Fluff, Not a drinking game but another
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: No drinking game. No calling out on Brienne's virginity. It is, in fact, another plan that Tyrion unleashes on his unsuspecting brother and his wench.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Many ways to say I love you [71]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234904
Comments: 14
Kudos: 140





	The prettiest eyes

“She has such pretty eyes,” Tyrion sighed, resting his elbow on the table and allowing himself a covert glance at Sansa.

Brienne followed his gaze to the table beyond the crowd laughing and making merry. “She does.” 

While the two of them were busy with their admiration for Sansa, Jaime’s attention was elsewhere; he couldn’t help noticing how happy Brienne was, her cares, forgotten for a change, her smile, bright and warm, the tinkle in her voice, a melody sweeter than the sweetest of songs.

“She’s got the prettiest eyes in all the Seven kingdoms,” his brother gushed in exaggeration, refilling his goblet to the brim. “She--”

“I disagree,” Jaime objected on an impulse, but then regretted speaking out, when six pairs of eyes latched onto his, demanding an explanation. He felt the blood rush to his face. Whether it was the wine streaming all over his body or the woman sitting across the table, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps, both.

Tyrion had now abandoned his visual pursuit of his former wife. “Who, then, in your opinion, has the prettiest eyes in Westeros, brother?”

Jaime fell silent and stared into his drink, his palms slippery with sweat against his goblet. His head was throbbing with the answer, loud and clear, yet, he had not the courage to bring it to his lips.

“Is it our Queen Daenerys?”

Jaime glared at his brother, livid at the pathetic attempt to provoke him into spilling out the truth. “Of course not--”

“Cersei, then?”

“No!”

Not ready to give up, Tyrion scanned the hall. “That very fine young woman sitting there?” Grinning, he pointed out to some girl in the distance. “She’s been having her eyes on you for a while, devouring you instead of her dinner. So if you find her pretty eyes and more worthy of your attention, why don’t you--”

Before Jaime could fight back, Brienne shot to her feet, bringing his brother’s terrible suggestion to a premature end. “I must leave.”

“My lady,” Tyrion stopped her before she could get away, “don’t you want to stay and hear the end of this argument? Perhaps we could help Jaime get acquainted with this unknown woman whose eyes he’s been secretly admiring?”

“Not interested,” she said, firm and steely, her tone not far away from one of their earliest scathing exchanges when he had playfully offered to fuck her and she’d snapped back at him. “I’d rather get some sleep. I have an early day tomorrow.”

Keen to calm her down, Jaime got up. “Brienne, stay for a while--”

“I really have to go.” 

Without looking at him or anyone else, she was about to leave the table, when Tyrion called out, “Would you not be interested even if it was _you_ he was talking about?”

Brienne wheeled around, taken aback by his brother’s question. Gone was her indignation, but a shadow, there still was in those beautiful eyes, laying a restraining shroud over their brilliance. “What do you mean, Lord Tyrion?”

“My brother loves you, Lady Brienne.” Tyrion wasn’t smiling anymore. Nor was there any playfulness in his demeanour or his voice. “Desperately. Irrevocably.” Jaime felt his jaw tighten. The truth had made its presence felt within him more than once, but hearing it said aloud was a different feeling, altogether. His brother kept going, no jest in his words, none of his usual sarcasm, nothing but what there was for how it was. “So smitten with you, he is, that he came here with no army nor any other support, happy to embrace death in your arms instead of a life with Cersei.”

Deathly silence enveloped their table, the only noise, the celebrating crowd around them. All eyes were on Brienne now, and she stood there, hands tightly gripping her chair, her chest, rising and falling like she’d run a few miles.

“I must leave,” she said after some contemplation, her tone very different from the first time.

Jaime made a quick decision. “Then I must escort you.”

“I don’t need--”

“I insist.” Firm and stubborn, he stepped in her path, ready to stop her if she resisted.

Seeing no way out, she relented. Through the revelry, they made their way, up the stairs and along the passage that led to her chambers. She didn’t speak. She didn’t look at him. And he was nervous, his heart sitting somewhere at his throat, not allowing him to speak, not permitting him to breathe normally.

“Here we are,” she said, when they had finally arrived. Was that relief in her voice? An eagerness to get away from him? “Goodnight, Ser Jaime--”

“Forgive my brother,” Jaime blurted out the first thing that came to his head. “He can be quite annoying and tactless, at times.” _But every word he spoke is nothing but the truth,_ he wanted to tell her, but he just couldn’t do it and he stood there, mute, waiting for a reaction to encourage him.

Her fingers curled around the doorknob, but she didn’t open it. Nor did she acknowledge his awkward attempt to make conversation. And he observed her for a tense few seconds, taking in every twitch of her face, every shiver of her lips... _everything_.

Astutely.

“You’re jealous, Brienne.”

It had come tumbling past his lips before he could control himself, the true meaning of it hitting him when he absently recalled her reaction to Tyrion’s suggestion, the reason for her hostile and abrupt departure at the mention of his unknown admirer, pleasing him beyond anything else. “You were pissed off with that girl staring at me. That’s why you--”

“Yes, I was,” she admitted, her eyes flashing fire as she balled her hand into a fist. “I couldn’t--”

“Prettiest eyes in all of Westeros,” he fondly admired, taking a step closer to imprison her between himself and the door. “No one comes even close. Not Sansa, not Daenerys and--” he paused to recall her envious face again “--definitely _not_ that woman Tyrion happened to spot by chance.”

Her anger washed away, she softened, blushing slightly at the compliment. “Ser Jaime--”

He kissed her before she could say any more, for that was the only way he could say it, the only way he could show her. Letting go of her grip on the door, she sank into him with a sigh, her wine-sweetened lips, accepting his challenge to this duel of passion. They sparred away like a pair of squires, clumsy and careful, tentative, though eager to learn and explore. But when she let out a moan and parted her lips, he went in deeper, engaging her mouth in a firmer hold, sensual and furious, his tongue, edging its way into her warm and inviting mouth. Soon, they were all over each other, hands, raging with the need to touch and hold, to feel one another, bodies, starving for more than a kiss, desperate to be inseparable.

She was the one. And she would always be the one. The _only_ one. From this day until the end of his days.

“I’ve never kissed a knight before,” Jaime whispered, locking her to his chest in a tight embrace even after they had drifted away from the kiss.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” There was the child-like innocence in her eyes, one of the many qualities in her that led him to fall for her.

“I don’t want to kiss anyone else again,” he breathed, leaning in to bring their lips together again. 

Her eyes dropped at his declaration, then rose again to meet his. “Nor do I, Jaime.” 

Her chin quivering, Brienne dissolved into his kiss with such passion and love that left him believing in an _afterwards_ that held more meaning that it did before this beautiful night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the fluff :)


End file.
